Freaky Friday Chapter Three
by Lalamegz
Summary: In this chapter, Hermione loses the last of her dignity on the Quidditch pitch and Ron reads a certain diary ...


Disclaimer: Well. Here we are. Heh. It's taken me long enough to get a story up here, but there you are. I didn't create any characters I have written about - just the mad storyline for this mini fiction. So don't sue me, I'm just a humble, bored teenager. :-) Also, this is a kind of Harry Potter version of the film Freaky Friday, and I didn't create that either.  
  
Note: Thank you a million times for each and every reviews! It's been a long time, I know. Lots of things happened . coursework . school . home stuff . bla bla bla. Basically, I'M BACK! You can now see my updates if you bookmark me you can see when I do online stuff. I've only just set it up, so it's not very full at the mo. I also wrote a fic on my username with Paris . anyway. I'm rambling. I'm very very very sorry. This chapter isn't as good as the last two, but I'll write a fantastic one as soon as possible. It's half term soon anyway, so I'll have bags of time to update. THANK YOU ALL AGAIN :-D :-D :-D I love your reviews! They make me happy :-D  
  
Chapter Three - Where Weirdness Continues  
  
Hermione was terrified.  
  
It was for several reasons. These included:  
  
1) The overall scariness of being Ron,  
  
2) The fact that she was terrified of heights and was sitting on a broomstick high above the ground,  
  
3) The fact that she was completely rubbish at Quidditch, and  
  
4) The fact that in a few minutes, she was going to make an idiot out of herself.  
  
Boys, Hermione thought. They're all so obsessed with this stupid game!  
  
"Go on, Ron! Get down the other end! I thought you were on our side!"  
  
A shiver of terror rushed through Hermione as she shouted croakily, "Alright - I'm going."  
  
But Hermione could have as easily chopped off her own head and ate it as easily as she could have flied down the other end of the "pitch". However, Fred, George and Ginny were scowling at her impatiently, so she found that she had to go.  
  
Sighing, she turned around very, very slowly.  
  
"Hurry up!" Fred bellowed.  
  
Hermione pushed a bit too hard.  
  
"Aghhh!" she shouted, as she spun around in a circle. She swayed on the broomstick, feeling dizzy. Fred, George and Ginny began to laugh.  
  
She sighed, steered herself at the exact right angle, and then began to move slowly towards the pitch, feeling like a snail floating on a helium balloon. She didn't dare go any faster, because she needed lots of time to stop herself.  
  
"Finally," George said, looking at her suspiciously. "Let's go!"  
  
Hermione hovered in front of the baskets that they were using for goal hoops, feeling extremely self-conscious. She watched as Ginny zoomed down the other end and Fred and George battled for the apple that they were using as a Quaffle.  
  
She nervously reached into her pocket, trying not to look down, and fished out the walkie-talkie.  
  
"Ron. Come in, Ron!" she muttered, keeping a close eye on the game.  
  
"What?" Ron said grumpily.  
  
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, forgetting her dilemma for a moment.  
  
"I'm reading. I was really into that, then." Ron said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Ooh, any luck?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Oh." Hermione sighed. "Look, I've got a bit of a problem. It seems that Fred and George stepped up the Weasley Family Quidditch game."  
  
"Oh, no!" Ron said, sounding panicked. "Where are you?"  
  
"Erm ." Hermione looked around, wondering how to word what she was thinking. Fred and George were both diving after the apple.  
  
"Floating in mid air with no idea what I'm doing." She whispered.  
  
"WHAT?" Ron's voice crackled, so loudly that Hermione jumped. She let out a scream as the walkie-talkie began to fall to the ground.  
  
Dive, said a voice in her head, like Harry does. Get it!  
  
I can't! Said another voice. I'm rubbish at this! I can barely stay above the ground!  
  
Do it! You need Ron's help!  
  
No, I don't.  
  
You just don't want to admit that for once, you need him. He's better than you at something. Isn't that right?  
  
Shut up!  
  
Hermione shook her head.  
  
I'm right, and you know it.  
  
No, you're wrong, and I can do this. All by myself.  
  
She flew forwards a bit, trying not to lose her cool. Fred and George were slowly reaching her end. Fred threw -  
  
Hermione reached out, her arms outstretched. She clapped her hands together as the apple flew through them, trapping it inside. Grinning triumphantly, she didn't really notice as she started to slip.  
  
It was only when she was falling through the ground just like the walkie- talkie that she realised that she had made a mistake.  
  
*** "It wasn't that bad," Ginny said soothingly.  
  
"Wasn't that bad?" Hermione repeated in astonishment. "I've been unconscious for an hour and I sprained my ankle. How is that not bad?"  
  
"Well ." Ginny shrugged. "At least you saved it."  
  
Hermione sighed and leant back against the pillows. Since she had officially started being Ron, she had tidied up his room a bit. She only really intended to make the bed and pick up the things from the floor. But then she was off, hovering and cleaning and polishing and organizing. Now Ron's pieces of parchment were kept in a very orderly way on his desk, along with his books (she had Spellotaped the spines of some of them, in order to fix them from their disasterly state), and his quills, which she found under the scary mass that was under his bed.  
  
She had also cleared out under the bed, coming across a few scary items, but she had simply shoved them in a box and didn't think back on it. She had taken the clean clothes that Mrs Weasley sorted for her and hung them up. Now the whole room was an overall nicer place to be.  
  
So she was leaning against the pillows in their clean cases, sipping a drink as she rested her leg. She sighed.  
  
"Well, I think it was a disaster. Couldn't have got any worse."  
  
Ginny smiled. It was a strange, sly kind of smile that Hermione was used to from one of her best friends. It meant that she was up to something. She had a weird sort of twinkle in her eye as she said what she was going to say.  
  
"Well at least I know about the thing with you and Hermione."  
  
Hermione sat up, startled.  
  
"What thing with me and Hermione?" she stuttered.  
  
"You and Hermione." Ginny said. She grinned. "Come on, Ron. I know you met her the other day."  
  
Oh, thank God she doesn't know about us.  
  
"I - I met Dean -"  
  
"Rubbish!" Ginny laughed. "You told that to us so that you could go and see Hermione. I talk to Dean, remember? I am his girlfriend. He told me that it never happened."  
  
"I -" Hermione stuttered. She hadn't seen that coming.  
  
"I know you met Hermione, because Seamus went to the library that day and saw you both there, and he told Dean that you looked very cosy." She laughed at the look on her face. "Relax. I think she likes you too."  
  
Hermione blushed.  
  
"No I - no she doesn't!"  
  
Ginny laughed again.  
  
"I think she does. Something about the look in her eyes when you're around ." she grinned.  
  
Hermione sighed. She was having an intense battle with the voices in her head.  
  
Tell her.  
  
No!  
  
Tell her.  
  
No!!!  
  
Tell her.  
  
For the last time, no!  
  
You have to tell her. It's the only way you can get her to shut up.  
  
I promised Ron I wouldn't tell anyone. I think telling her sister is a severe breakage of that rule. Besides, Ginny doesn't know what she's talking about.  
  
Doesn't she?  
  
Hermione stopped the voices for a moment and thought. Do I really like Ron?  
  
YES! Shouted a voice. Finally, she gets it!  
  
Hermione could almost hear the applause in her brain.  
  
No, she thought. You're wrong.  
  
The voices in her head sighed as she shouted: "BUT I'M HERMIONE!"  
  
Ginny looked at her for a very long time.  
  
Then she said "Excuse me?!"  
  
"I'm Hermione. I am Hermione. Me. I'm not Ron! I'm just in Ron's body. Alright? So stop winding me up because I DON'T LIKE RON!"  
  
Ginny looked as though someone had just force fed her a lemon.  
  
"What?" she said, after a long, pained silence.  
  
Hermione sighed, and feeling a strange sense of relief, she told the entire story to Ginny. Ginny gasped, squealed and giggled at the right times, which made Hermione feel a bit better about herself. When she was finished, Ginny was rolling on the floor.  
  
"So all this time, we thought you were Ron, but you were Hermione!" she giggled. "Oh, that's hilarious!"  
  
Hermione scowled.  
  
"Seriously, Ginny. What am I going to do?"  
  
But Ginny was laughing too much to speak. She was clutching her stomach as tears of merriment ran down her face.  
  
This, Hermione thought, is not good.  
  
***  
  
Hello,  
  
My name is Hermione Granger. I'm fifteen. I suppose I shouldn't be bothered with saying all of this. It's just a new diary, you see. I write in my diaries all the time. I keep a stash of my older ones under the bed.  
  
It's the Christmas Holidays at the moment. Things are going well, I think. Only I'm fed up of feeling lonely. Neither Ron nor Harry would willingly want to see me alone without each other, and they're meant to be my best friends. I could see Ginny, but she's pretty much busy all the time with Dean.  
  
And I can't see Viktor. He was kind of my boyfriend. I mean we didn't really do much of what Parvati and Lavender giggle about in the middle of the night in our dorms at Hogwarts. We just kissed. But I really thought I meant something to him.  
  
Apparently not, because he dumped me ages ago.  
I kept writing to him for a while to keep up the pretence of having a boyfriend. I think it made Ron jealous. I don't know why I'm even thinking that. It's not like I like him.  
It's hard being a teenager.  
I'll write more later.  
  
Ron read the last few sentences several times and didn't understand any of it.  
  
Of COURSE he wanted to see Hermione. He was going to arrange it with her . he just couldn't be bothered. He only really wrote to Harry because he felt it was his duty too. He didn't think Hermione would be too fussed if she didn't hear from Ron, whereas Harry would probably have a nervous breakdown.  
  
The only eye-widening part was the bit about Krum and himself. What did she mean by that? Could she possibly mean? .  
  
He shook his head, ignoring the peculiar, unrecognisable emotion that had just settled in him. He usually felt this when Hermione argued with him, only it was along with anger, not happiness.  
  
Happiness, Ron thought. I'm not happy!  
  
He decided it would be a good idea to stop talking to himself and to read some more of Hermione's diary. When he turned the page, however, he found that it was blank.  
  
Frowning, he flicked back a page. It had been over an hour since Hermione's voice had crackled down the walkie talkie. He knew that, if he wanted to play the part of Hermione right, he should probably panic uncontrollably.  
  
But he couldn't help being Ron, so he leant back against the pillows and sighed.  
  
He could have delved under her bed for her diaries, but something was stopping her. A few moments before, he had had a huge debate with the voices in my head, which went sort of like this:  
  
Read it.  
  
No.  
  
Read it.  
  
No.  
  
Read it.  
  
No.  
  
Why not?  
  
Because it's wrong.  
  
It's Hermione. She wont care.  
  
Yes, she will, she will care; she'll be able to tell. I bet she's jinxed it.  
  
Nah, what if her parents accidentally picked it up? She wouldn't risk it. Come on, Ron. Open it.  
  
No way.  
  
Yes way!  
  
No - way.  
  
Yes - way.  
  
N - O.  
  
Y - E - S.  
  
No!  
  
What's stopping you?  
  
Ron thought about that for a long time. There was nothing stopping him from opening the diary and reading all of Hermione's deepest secrets. (Or lack of them, in that case). Except from the huge wall of guilt that seemed to be building itself around Ron, so he couldn't move his arm towards the diary.  
  
Eventually, driven mad by the conflicting thoughts in his head, he had just grabbed the diary and read the page eagerly, as though he had been in a desert for a month and the only way to eat or drink was to read something. But, unluckily for him, it didn't hold much interesting information.  
  
So now Ron felt really guilty, and he didn't find anything out that was interesting to him.  
  
Except from the part about himself, which he had decided to ignore, as it was too confusing.  
  
It was also getting very confusing being Hermione. He kept forgetting, and then he looked down, and yelped. It was Saturday, and they hadn't found a cure; the thing is, both of them were too proud to go and tell someone. Ron knew that Hermione wouldn't tell. But he didn't know if he was happy about that or not.  
  
He kept reaching up to ruffle his hair and finding it frizzy and static instead of sticking up and ginger; he kept wondering why it felt like something was wrapped around his chest until he remembered that he was wearing a bra. And THAT was a nightmare - he had struggled with that bra for about half an hour, and still couldn't quite work out the hooks. His straps were twisted and uncomfortable.  
  
And whenever he got changed, he did it with his eyes shut. Most boys in his position would be doing something unspeakable, but unfortunately Ron found the idea both very exciting and very disgusting, and to avoid the arguments with the voices in his head, he simply dropped the idea.  
  
Besides, it was Hermione.  
  
It was WEIRD.  
  
And he had to deal with Hermione's parents. They went out quite a lot, on some business things. They were very busy. But they loved to engage Ron in long, "interesting" conversations about things, and sometimes they mentioned Muggle things, which Ron didn't understand. Ron almost had a panic attack when they asked him to use the phone to call someone; but then Hermione's father had rescued him by saying he would do it. He thought it was because Hermione was shy. Ron thought he was lucky to have escaped permanent damage.  
  
A tapping on the window interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw his own owl, Pigwidgeon, fluttering excitedly outside. He reached out and grabbed him in one fist, pulling him in and closing the window again. He read Hermione's letter quickly.  
  
Listen, I have a new idea. Meet me at my house tomorrow.  
  
(That means I'm coming to you, not the other way around).  
  
Love, Hermione.  
  
Ron thought back to the diary again, but then ignored it. He scribbled back: I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. I'M NOT STUPID. See you then. From Ron.  
  
He watched Pig fly away with a disgruntled feeling.  
  
The thought of Krum, however, turned his face into a grin. 


End file.
